


One Month

by redseeker



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Anal, BDSM, Beating, Bodily Fluids, Bondage, Bukkake, Come Eating, Crack, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Erotic Electrostimulation, Filming, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Rimming, Sex Toys, Slapping, Spark Bukkake??, Strapping, Tentacles, Triple Penetration, Unconscious Sex, Vaginal, Verbal Humiliation, Vomiting, Voyeurism, Watersports, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2031618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redseeker/pseuds/redseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream's return to the Decepticons came with a condition. One month, spent as the army's 'morale officer', a pleasure drone to any who ask for it. A condition Starscream accepted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morale Officer

Starscream bent over, put his hands on the plain table and latched on with his claws. The group of vehicons clustered behind him, around his pert, upwardly-angled aft. A moment later Starscream felt their hands grabbing at him, kneading his waist and narrow hips, groping between his legs. His breath caught, and while his mouth was open another drone slipped two fingers deep in his mouth. Starscream looked up. Another group of bots had crowded in around his head, and out of the corners of his optics he could see that he was now completely surrounded by soldiers, all of them with darkly glowing, ember-hot visors. 

It wasn't long before the group behind him got his covers open. He winced when he felt them break the clips and detach the panels altogether, leaving his aft, valve, and spike housing completely exposed. Hands grabbed at his aft and spread it, fingers spread the lips of his valve, and he felt the heat of optics peering inside his most intimate places.

“Look at him, he's so tight and tender,” one of them remarked, and several others uttered similar statements in agreement, laughing. Somebot reached under him to fix a specially designed cap over his spike housing – this would divert charge to his internal systems, meaning his arousal and pleasure must be centred around his valve and aft, and would receive no relief via his spike. 

Suddenly he was turned around, and then lifted and pushed down onto the table on his back. Bots grabbed his legs and spread them, while others held and restrained his arms. The pose forced his back to arch slightly, and left his valve wide open and vulnerable to the crowd's prying optics. With a thrill of shock, Starscream realised one of the bots had a camera mod attached to his helm, and was transmitting the images directly to the massive screens all around the command room. Starscream's bared valve and aft, his capped spike, were magnified and broadcast on all the screens, displayed in high-definition, full-colour detail, larger than life images showing every quiver, every drop of lubricant. And he was lubricating now, slag it all. His valve began to throb, and his humiliation only seemed to stoke the arousal that was building between his legs. 

They played with him a little longer. First they tried to see how many fingers they could fit into his mouth, and then they rubbed their spikes against his face. Groaning, Starscream opened his mouth wide and took one of the twitching, turgid spikes into his mouth. The bot moaned and ground into the seeker's throat slowly, letting Starscream suck. Meanwhile, the crowd of bots at the other side of the table spread Starscream as wide as they could, pulled at his valve lips, inner and outer both, and then two bots each stuck a finger into his slick valve and gently pulled his entrance open. The bot with the camera leant down, activating a light on the camera, and made sure the big screens got a good shot of the inside of Starscream's valve as it was held open wide, which elicited a loud and rowdy cheer from the whole crowd. When the cameramech drew back, the other bots took turns fingering Starscream's valve, gradually working up the number of fingers. Somebot lubed up their digits and started to play with the seeker's aft, and once he had two fingers in there then that hole seemed to become fair game as well. Starscream had fingers stuffed into both holes, and was finger-fucked roughly until he cried out, his voice muffled around the spike in his mouth.

The bot in his mouth got steadily rougher and faster, until he eventually came and jetted thick cyber-sperm all down Starscream's throat. Starscream swallowed, choked, and coughed as the spike was removed. He gasped for air, only to yelp and cry out in surprise as the bots playing with his valve tilted his hips up, making his body curl, and then spread his valve wide with several fingers while another bot emptied a cube of high-grade energon into his open hole. There was laughter as somebot else stuck a straw into his valve and started to suck out the energon through their fuel intake, drinking the fuel straight from the seeker's cunt.

Another spike was rammed into Starscream's mouth. They seemed to be getting rougher and rowdier now they realised Starscream would not fight, would not even raise a fuss – indeed, Starscream only writhed and moaned at their attentions, and continued to lie, unrestrained, across the table they had put him on. There would, too, be no repercussions – Megatron himself had appointed Starscream to his new post as morale officer, for a minumum duration of one Earth month. For an entire month, Commander Starscream was theirs to do with as they pleased.

The thought was enough to make them drunk on pleasure and anticipation, their processors no doubt running wild with the possibilities.

Starscream was made to tilt his head back off the edge of the table to allow the bot fucking his mouth to slide his spike deep into the seeker's throat. While Starscream was deepthroating that mech, two others made him jack them with his hands. 

And, finally, the others tired of playing with him, and one of them finally lined up a spike at his valve. Starscream moaned when he felt the broad, warm tip kiss his sticky-wet entrance; he was aching with desire by now, he needed something filling him, wanted desperately to be filled up and rammed deep. His wish was granted a moment later, when the mech jerked his hips and slammed the entire length of his spike into Starscream's valve. The seeker's hole was tight, and Starscream gave a broken shout as it was opened, forcibly stretched, by the thick, hard rod now inside him. The mech moaned in pleasure, and then got down to business. He started off slow, but Starscream was lubricating generously, and his valve quickly adjusted to the stretch, while remaining tight around the bot's dick, and the vehicon was soon able to work up a rhythm. Starscream suckled on the spike in his mouth while being simultaneously fucked in the valve, double-ended while every moment of his humiliation was blown up and broadcast across the big screens – and, incidentally, every monitor linked up to the _Nemesis_ 's network.

When the mechs ramming him both finished, Starscream was flipped over again. One of the vehicons lay down on the table and Starscream was lifted into his lap and onto his spike. Then Starscream was pressed down against the vehicon's chest whilst an eradicon moved in between his legs and rubbed his spike against the seeker's aft. Starscream made a small, weak sound as the blunt tip of that spike nudged at his tiny waste-port, and then cried out loud when his aft was breached. He wasn't able to voice any further protests, however, as another both took control of his head and guided him down until he took another spike in his mouth. All Starscream could do then was whimper, as he took three spikes at once, bounced and jolted between the mechs who took him. They fucked him hard and fast, making his aft sore at the stretch and depth, making his valve ache for release. He felt so full, it was so intense; just a few kliks later, he was coming. He came hard while the three dicks were still hammering him, and the bots around him noticed and laughed, murmuring and joking in satisfaction as they watched the beautiful seeker helplessly writhe in depraved pleasure. 

The bots in his mouth and valve came next, flooding both holes with generous spurts of come. The third bot wrapped his arms around Starscream's narrow waist and shifted his position, lifting him a little and pulling him back to allow an even deeper fuck. Then he snapped his hips as rapidly and hard as he could, yelling out as he did so, becoming frenzied as he stabbed his spike into Starscream's aft over and over and over again, fast and hard as a jackhammer. Starscream screamed and wailed, flailing weakly, unable to catch his balance or escape the punishing fuck. The bot whooped as he finally came, and Starscream whimpered as his aft was jammed full of cock as spurt after thick spurt of transfluid was deposited deep in his bowels.

When that bot finally withdrew, they let Starscream slide helplessly to the floor, first to his knees, and then collapsing weakly onto his front. His aft gaped, and both it and his valve oozed come. Transfluid leaked from the side of his mouth, and his optics had a hazy, unfocused look. He was trembling slightly, his wings and claws twitching.

There were still plenty of soldiers who hadn't yet had their turn.

They took him there on the floor. An eradicon grabbed Starscream's hips and lifted up his aft, before thrusting a thick spike into the seeker's recently abused rear port. Another vehicon knelt at Starscream's helm and coaxed the Commander to lick around the base of his spike, where sac-like transfluid reservoirs hung; an unusual, but not unheard-of modification that allowed a bot to produce and store more transfluid than the average mech. He pushed one into Starscream's mouth, and then the other, and cooed when the seeker tongued his balls like a practised pleasure bot.

One after another they took him. His aft, then his valve, then his aft again, and always at least one bot using his mouth. If they didn't have a spike or two in his mouth then they were rubbing their spikes and valves against his face, or making him open his mouth and stick out his glossa so they could rub their aft against it and receive a tongue-bath. Some of them liked to overload inside him, others preferred to splatter their emissions all over his plating, until the whole of his sleek, elegant frame was spray-painted with viscous, silver-coloured come. And Starscream overloaded. He overloaded again and again, driven wild by the pleasure of being degraded and fucked in all his holes, used by the entire crew. 

He had just come again when the elite seekers arrived, late to the party and angry about not being invited first. They fucked him roughly, slapped his aft and his face, grabbed his wings in all the right places and some of the wrong ones, getting him lost in a haze of painful pleasure.

He was barely conscious when a cadre of Insecticons joined the party. Blessedly, after the first brute managed to force its massive, malformed spike inside his stretched-out valve, Starscream slipped into stasis. He was passed out for the rest of the Insecticons' shift, which left his body relaxed and supple; it probably saved him some damage. The giant bugs took his valve and forced as much of their cocks into his throat as they could. They chittered and growled as they took their pleasure with the Air Commander's unresponsive frame, passing him back and forth between them with more co-ordination and teamwork than any of the rest of the crew had shown. One or two dared to take his aft, and then realised that the rear port, once deceptively tight and small, actually could be stretched wider and deeper than the little seeker's valve. After that, they took Starscream exclusively up the aft, since they were able to jam the whole of their thick, long, strangely-shaped cocks inside that hole, and really stir up his insides as they took their bestial pleasure.

When the last of the insecticons finished, and deposited its load deep inside the seeker's aft, the group of them retreated, chittering and clicking, and left Starscream lying, unconscious, on the command room floor. A crowd of drones still surrounded him, but most who had taken one or two turns already had left, since the room had become overcrowded. Now the ones who remained looked down at their illustrious commander and congratulated themselves on a job well done. Starscream lay prone in a wide, sticky puddle of come and energon. His optics were glazed, his processor still in stasis. His mouth was open and drool and come leaked from it, while his valve and aft both gaped obscenely, especially the aft. Transfluid covered almost every inch of the seeker's body. Here and there he had dints and scratches that hadn't been there before, more permanent reminders of this little adventure.

The second-in-command of Starscream's elite seeker unit finished off the evening in the most fitting way. He took his spike in his hand, aimed at his Commander, and emptied his waste tank all over Starscream's face. A few of the other bots joined in, and Starscream got a hosing down to wash off some of the come.

Then the soldiers left, and the bot with the camera took a few last shots of the Air Commander's degradation before cutting off the feed and making his exit too.

Starscream was left there for about half a joor before Breakdown came for him. He tutted at the mess, and then gestured to the two drones he had brought with him. They gingerly took hold of an arm each, and under Breakdown's direction, dragged Starscream from the command room, toward the doctor's office.


	2. Knock Out & Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter I had to put an Archive Warning on the story for Noncon as, even though Starscream has agreed to this arrangement in general terms, in this specific instance he does try to refuse Breakdown and is ignored. I thought it was better to warn than worry about spoilers, so please take care when reading, especially if you are likely to become triggered by that sort of thing. There will probably be other instances as/if the story goes on where Starscream is pushed beyond where he's comfortable, as well.

When Starscream awoke, he gazed around blearily, disoriented and unsure where he was. He seemed to be upright, in a dark, softly-lit room. He tried to move, and realised then that his hands were bound above his head. He grunted, and glanced upward. His wrists were tied with energon-infused chains, and he was suspended from the ceiling. His toes just reached the floor, but he was off-balance enough that the chains above him had to take most of his weight.

“Ah, sleeping beauty awakens,” said a rich, smooth voice behind him.

Starscream sneered in irritation, but also felt a flash of relief. “Doctor.”

Knock Out slowly paced into Starscream's field of vision. He carried a small, slim shockstick in one hand, unlit, which he tapped idly against his thigh as he moved. Starscream quickly ran a quick diagnostic of his internal systems, and some of the surprise must have shown on his face-

“Yes, you're fully repaired,” Knock Out said. “Lord Megatron can hardly expect you to last the month if you fall to pieces after a day or two. Not to worry – I cleaned you up and reset every caliper. You're tighter than new, and buffed and polished too. All part of my orders...”

Starscream tugged at his bonds and gave the doctor a penetrating look.

“Ah yes... well, my dear Commander. I do expect a little reward for all my hard work. You are to serve the whole crew, after all. I'm just jumping in ahead of the queue to get my first turn. You don't object, do you?”

Starscream frowned, his brows drawing down low. He remembered the terms of the deal he had agreed to with Megatron, and Knock Out was well within his rights to claim his turn. Starscream only wished he had chance to rest. To him, it seemed as if no time at all had passed since he was in the midst of the crowd of drones, seekers, insecticons... He had passed out, and awoken here. His frame felt hale and rested, but his mind was convinced there had been no break at all.

“Fine,” he said. “I hold Megatron's bargain...” He couldn't back out now, not so soon. He had to earn his return in any way he could.

Knock Out smiled. “Good bot,” he crooned. He paced around Starscream in a slow circle. Starscream's hackles rose, and his sensornet began to tingle. He realised that the doctor hadn't bothered to replace the covers over Starscream's interface array – his valve and aft were still on show, even if they had been repaired. There was a fresh cap over his spike, preventing him from getting hard.

Starscream jumped at the first touch of the shockstick. Knock Out had it on a light setting, but it still stung where the current crackled against Starscream's plating. The seeker jerked each time Knock Out touched him with it, each time in a different place – his lower back, his aft, his wings, his inner thighs... Soon the doctor had Starscream panting and writhing where he hung, tugging at his chains. Knock Out caressed Starscream's aft, following the burning trail he made with the shockstick.

“Good,” Knock Out murmured. Starscream heard the doctor move away a few paces behind him, and then return. He awaited the heat of the shockstick, but it never came. Instead there was a sudden, searing bloom of pain, unexpected and hot, all across his aft. Starscream cried out at the first swipe of the whip, and then went slack in his bonds, gasping. Knock Out purred behind him, and brushed the soft tails of the whip against Starscream's sensitive aft. His other hand lightly gripped Starscream's hip, and gently guided him to alter his position slightly, leaning further forward as much as the chains would allow and canting his hips back, his legs straight. Starscream's valve tightened, and he bit his lip.

Knock Out took a step back, and Starscream tensed up in expectation. This time, when the whip cracked, he at least knew it was coming. It didn't hurt any less, however much he realised the doctor was holding back. Again and again the whip snapped against his aft and the backs of his trembling thighs. Heat rose in his plating as energon flowed beneath the surface. Gradually, Knock Out's swings became harder, the whip swinging faster with a regular, hypnotic rhythm. The doctor moved the blows up and down Starscream's thighs, aft, and back. At the first lick of the tails against his wings, Starscream screamed. Tears sprung from his optics as the whip didn't stop. His whole frame was on fire, his back burning, the blows to his wings ratcheting the pain up several degrees. Starscream screamed, and begged, and he was barely aware of the words tumbling from his mouth. His feet slipped and skittered, and his hands closed convulsively on the chains suspending him. He writhed in an attempt to escape the bite of the whip, but every way he squirmed, Knock Out followed him, and the tails of the whip caressed his aft and his legs with ever more searing heat.

Just when Starscream felt he was about to pass out again, this time from pain rather than over-exertion, Knock Out stopped. Starscream hung, slack and shivering, in his chains, gasping and sobbing shallowly. All was still for a moment, and Starscream felt almost euphoric. He didn't understand the feeling, but he wasn't in the right mind to examine it. After a sparkbeat, Knock Out's thin fingertips started to trace slow, whirling patterns over the superheated surface of Starscream's aft. The seeker cried out, moaning in real pleasure. The slightest, lightest touch felt like stars of light floating through the haze of pain. His valve clenched and dripped, lubricant making a glittering trail down his inner thighs. He trembled and tilted his head back, arching in bliss. Knock Out crooned something into his audio, but the words didn't reach Starscream's awareness.

Then Knock Out's fingers were gone, and the whip came back.

Starscream didn't know how long the pattern continued – whip, then gentle caresses, then the whip again. He lost his sense of time, lost his sense of self. There was only sensation, only his body. He screamed and he cried and he moaned, and Knock Out brought him almost to the point of climax by merely brushing his valve with his fingertips more than once.

After an age of pain and pleasure alternated and layered until Starscream barely knew who he was anymore, Knock Out cast the whip aside and let it clatter to the floor. He lifted Starscream's thigh up high, and pressed his frame up against the seeker's burning aft. Starscream whimpered in protest, but Knock Out only grunted and thrust his spike inside Starscream's clenching, hungry valve. Knock Out was hard and thick and his EM field, kept tightly in check until this moment, swirled around the both of them like a maelstrom of violent desire. He gripped Starscream's thigh and waist hard enough to hurt, and fucked him sharply and fast. Starscream could only moan helplessly; the doctor had ensured his valve was as tight as possible, had adjusted and tightened it himself while Starscream had been unconscious, and Starscream felt the effects now. Knock Out's spike felt huge inside his good-as-new valve, and his sharp, hard thrusts gave more pain than pleasure, but even that kept Starscream on the cusp of overload.

Knock Out fucked him with almost frenzied intensity; whipping and caressing Starscream beforehand had built his lust up to a thundering storm, and now his self-control was at an end. He grunted and moaned as he stabbed Starscream's tender valve over and over again with his throbbing, straining spike, until at last he gripped the seeker's frame tight enough to scratch, to dent, and kept thrusting while he spilt his transfluid inside him.

He pulled out immediately, and watched, breathing heavily, as come started to slide down Starscream's thighs at once. The seeker trembled still, and let out a long, keening moan, squirming and clenching uselessly. Knock Out gave his own spike a few strokes of his hand until he was sure the last ripples of his overload had finished, and then he gave a long sigh of satisfaction. Angry pink lines scored Starscream's back, aft, and thighs, where the whip had bit deep enough to thin the metal and show the energon beneath. Some of the stripes bled energon, and the jet's aft in particular bore an intricate latticework of raw pink lines. Knock Out bit his lip and purred. Starscream was still trembling and mewling helplessly. The seeker was strung out, kept on the verge of coming all this time, overwhelmed by sensation but not yet allowed release.

Smirking to himself, Knock Out retrieved the shockstick and walked around to Starscream's front. He gripped the seeker's helm and forced him to look at him.

“Do you want to come, Starscream?”

Starscream whimpered and tried to nod. His face was a mess too, with tears making glistening wet trails from his optics, and drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. He was sniffling and crying, looking at Knock Out with wide, beseeching optics, begging him with slurred words to be allowed to come, to be set free, to be fucked some more. The stupid seeker didn't know what he wanted, but that didn't matter. Knock Out did.

“Look at me, Starscream,” he cooed, keeping his voice smooth and soft, keeping his hold on Starscream's head. The seeker obeyed, even when Knock Out dragged the tip of the shockstick down Starscream's body, blue-white electricity leaving a crackling trail, making Starscream yelp and jerk. He brought the stick down the side of Starscream's frame, finding the sensitive spots, and then, holding Starscream's optics, he thrust it between the seeker's legs. Starscream's shriek nearly broke Knock Out's audios, and he thrashed more wildly than ever he had with the whip. Knock Out held his head firmly, and the seeker, Primus bless him, managed to hold his gaze, even with the tip of the shockstick jammed into his valve, sending blistering raw energy zipping through his abused frame. Starscream arched sharply, breaking Knock Out's gaze at the last moment, and this time Knock Out allowed it. He kept the stick pushed deeply into the seeker's cunt, following his jerking hips, refused to let him escape. Starscream screamed and sobbed, and his frame tightened and spasmed as Knock Out forced overload after overload out of him, so strong it hurt, pained pleasure ripped forcibly from his trembling, weakened frame.

When Knock Out finally dropped the stick, he let Starscream hang suspended for a moment. His optics were blank, now, his face tear-stained and just as slack as the rest of his body. He still twitched, though, as electric aftershocks jolted through him.

Knock Out studied his Commander for a minute, absently stroking his own spike. Forcing Starscream through those overloads had made him hard again, but the jet was so out of it he was almost comatose, and his valve would surely be numb. He caressed Starscream's cheeks with his thumbs, wiping away some of the tears, and succeeding in getting Starscream's attention. The seeker seemed to return to himself just enough to focus on him. Knock Out murmured soothing words and gave him a soft kiss. Starscream sobbed, more quietly now, and passively opened his mouth to let Knock Out's glossa in. Knock Out hummed, and then moved back. He reached up and deactivated Starscream's bonds, unlocking the chains and guiding Starscream down to his knees before he could fall. Starscream swayed, and his trembling thighs could barely hold him up. Knock Out kept a good hold on his head with both hands, and nudged the head of his spike against Starscream's lips. The seeker parted his lips just as passively, and Knock Out moaned and slid his spike into Starscream's mouth. He held Starscream's head still and undulated his hips, easing his spike deeper with each in-stroke until he could thrust easily into the seeker's warm, tight throat. Starscream made little choked, gargling noises each time the doctor's cock pushed into his throat, but he was too weak to try to get away. His optics rolled in his head, and his glossa moved ineffectually, succeeding only in clumsily caressing the underside of Knock Out's spike. This time Knock Out's climax was smoother, slower, less acute and fevered. It rolled over him like a swelling wave, and he pushed deep into Starscream, holding the seeker's head so Starscream's stretched lips pressed against the very base of his spike, and stayed like that as long, thick spurts of transfluid poured down Starscream's throat.

He was dimly aware of Starscream straining to be freed, his throat working as he tried to intake, but Knock Out waited until every last drop of his come had been milked from his cock before he withdrew from Starscream's mouth. Starscream choked and coughed when his mouth was freed, gasping great hitching breaths. Knock Out purred and rubbed his spike against Starscream's face.

When he stepped back, Starscream crumpled onto all fours, his head hanging between his shoulders as thick threads of oral lubricant fell from his mouth. Knock Out looked up, and met the optics of a third mech, who had just joined them in the room. Or rather, the single optic. He smiled at his partner as Breakdown approached rather hesitantly.

“He's all yours,” Knock Out said. Breakdown had wanted a turn with Starscream as much as Knock Out had, but the big mech knew the pecking order, knew the doctor deserved first go between them.

Knock Out retreated to the edge of the room to watch as his old friend gently got Starscream on his back. The seeker frowned and tried to get up, but Breakdown pinned him with his strong hands as easily as if Starscream weren't moving at all. He unsheathed his thick, blunt-headed spike and butted the head against Starscream's valve lips.

“I- Wait. I agreed to let _Knock Out_ -”

“Shh,” Breakdown soothed. He held Starscream's waist, pinning him with his massive hands.

“Wait, stop- Ah!” Starscream flailed, no doubt feeling renewed pain now that the wounds on his back were pressed against the floor. But what bothered him more was Breakdown's spike, slowly but inexorably pushing between the puffy outer lips of the jet's valve and into the tight hole within, stretching him. Knock Out smirked. He had tightened Starscream's valve to a degree that his own spike felt as big as an insecticon's – what must Breakdown feel like, now? If Starscream's wordless wail and the way he thrashed around were any indication, very large indeed. Breakdown didn't let the tightness dissuade him, though. He ploughed determinedly on, until the whole of his considerable length was sheathed within the seeker's lithe body. He looked up, then, and met Knock Out's optics and gave him a grin and a thumbs-up. Knock Out returned the smile as a satisfied smirk, feeling the pleasure of a job well done.

He stayed and watched as his friend took his pleasure. Breakdown fucked in a steady, workmanlike fashion, sawing his huge tool back and forth, paying no mind to Starscream's squawks or pleas. Eventually Starscream seemed to realise as much, and he quietened down, merely arching once or twice when small overloads claimed him, as Breakdown thrust and thrust. Breakdown had stamina, that was for sure.

After a while, Knock Out grew bored and padded over to join the pair. He knelt at Starscream's head, and, since his spike had stiffened again by now, fed the seeker his length once more. Starscream suckled meekly. Knock Out knelt over Starscream's face and thrust into the yielding, wet heat of his throat. Breakdown lifted Starscream's thighs and forced his body to curl a little, to give Knock Out a better view of Breakdown's thick spike driving in and out of Starscream's stretched valve. He gave the doctor another grin, and Knock Out kissed him indulgently. Breakdown was a messy kisser, and as their glossas tangled, spit dripped down between them onto Starscream's abdomen.

Knock Out came again, and Breakdown still wasn't finished, though he was going harder on the seeker now. The doctor pulled out of Starscream's mouth and gave Breakdown another kiss. He moved around his friend and put his hands on the big mech's waist, pressing his frame against his, his hips against his aft. He felt Breakdown shiver, and the rhythm of his thrusts grew more sharp and erratic. Starscream's slender body jolted with each thrust, and Breakdown gripped the jet's thighs and kept determinedly pumping as his charge steadily rose, using the seeker's valve like a toy.

“Mmm.” Abruptly Breakdown knelt back, sitting on his heels, and lifted Starscream into his lap. Knock Out watched as the large mech held Starscream's waist and lifted him, pumping him up and down his spike. He would lift him, and then jam him back down onto his spike, simultaneously pushing his hips up, forcing the seeker to take the entire length of his monster spike and causing Starscream to whimper and moan with every thrust. Breakdown's motions became steadily faster and faster, until the poor seeker was being jerked up and down like a ragdoll, and Breakdown's face was contorted in a grimace as he single-mindedly chased his overload. At last, at long last, Breakdown gave a loud grunt, followed by a long moan of profound satisfaction. He ground Starscream down on his spike, keeping himself driven in deep and only grinding the seeker in a tiny motions while he emptied his transfluid into the Commander's body.

Afterwards, he pushed Starscream off his spike and dropped him, seeming not to care how the seeker sprawled, twitching and whimpering, onto the smooth floor that was smeared with transfluid. Breakdown had come a lot, and so transfluid poured in a steady, slow stream from between Starscream's legs.

“Mmmm,” Breakdown hummed. “That was nice.”

“Looks like I have another clean-up job to do,” Knock Out said wryly, looking at the seeker. Before the big mech could speak, he held up a hand and said, “I'll take care of it.” A little oil-bath would clean Starscream right up, and he deserved some proper recharge as well before the rest of the crew got their hands on him again. And who knows, maybe there would be time for Knock Out to have some more fun with him, before Megatron decided he was hogging the crew's newest plaything. He smirked at the thought. “Just leave him with me...”


	3. Dreadwing

When Starscream awoke, the first thing he felt was... warmth?

He opened his optics slowly, feeling drowsy and replete. His frame felt languid and relaxed, surrounded by a soothing warmth that sank deep into his struts and eased the aches and pains his exertions had already inflicted. After a moment he realised he was sitting in an oil-bath. Opening his eyes, he glanced around, disoriented but not alarmed.

Knock Out was perched on the side of the tub next to him.

“Good morning, Commander,” the doctor said. He took a dipper of the fragrant oil from the tub, and poured it over Starscream's chest.

Starscream hummed in gratitude and stretched a little. “This is a change of pace,” he said.

Knock Out chuckled softly. “You may have gotten yourself into this mess, Starscream, but it's my job to make sure you don't burn out.”

Starscream raised a brow. “Megatron's orders?”

“In part. I'm not sure he wants you to last out the terms of this ludicrous 'deal' you two made. If you succeed, he has to welcome you back into the fold, doesn't he?” He paused. “Then again, maybe he does.”

“He's a complicated mech,” Starscream said and closed his optics again. He sank down until the surface of the oil was just beneath his chin. “Mmm, this is nice.”

“Megatron won't give you time off, so I claimed you for a few joors. You can rest, I'll see to any repairs, that kind of thing.”

Starscream peered up at Knock Out through one optic. “No ulterior motive? My, doctor, was I really that bad?”

Knock Out laughed again. “Don't worry, I haven't gone off you. If you're up to it I'll be happy to take my turns just like the rest of the crew.” He gave the seeker a lascivious smile. “Although I have been rather hogging you lately.”

“It's early days yet.” Starscream lifted one hand from beneath the oil and inspected his claws. “A joor or two to clean up is a good idea, though. I'd rather not hobble around the ship looking like scrap.”

“We can take care of it,” Knock Out said.

Sure enough, after Starscream's bath, Knock Out helped Starscream restore his looks to a state of composure and elegance. Thus cleaned, buffed, and polished, Starscream was feeling much more like himself when the pair eventually sat down in the doctor's quarters to share a cube of energon.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Knock Out said, and pushed a datapad across the table.

“What's this?” Starscream picked up the pad and inspected it.

“Soundwave drew up a schedule for you. I suppose he just likes things to be... orderly.”

“It's filling up already,” Starscream remarked, scrolling through.

“It's linked up to the ship-wide intranet. Anybot can pencil himself in for an appointment, pending Soundwave's approval. Any time in between scheduled blocks, aside from the approved recharge allowance, you're expected to make yourself available for more... impromptu encounters.”

“Megatron isn't letting me off the hook,” Starscream said with a hint of amusement, and took another sip of his fuel.

“What did you expect?”

“Oh, nothing less, believe me.” He set his cube down. “According to this, the time you booked with me today is almost over. Didn't you want to, ah-”

“Make use of you?” Knock Out shrugged. “I had my fill last night. As I said, it's my job to make sure you don't go crazy or collapse from exhaustion – Primus knows Megatron hasn't made any other allowances of that kind. Consider this a favour if it makes you feel better.”

“Hmm. Favours have to be repaid, however.”

“I'm sure I can think of some way for you to repay me, Starscream,” Knock Out said with a smirk. Starscream merely laughed.

 

 ***

Starscream left Knock Out's chambers with the datapad in his hand. He consulted it as he strolled the halls. He passed a few soldiers as he went, and each time he did his body tensed in preparation for being accosted, but no such advances came. In fact, the drones he passed were remarkably friendly, if not always polite. A cluster of vehicons offered an awkward chorus of “Commander, Sir”, bobbing little bows and sketching embarrassed salutes; an Insecticon chirred and clicked its mandibles at him in a way he couldn't even begin to decode, and a pair of Eradicon Seekers gave him a slightly smug nod and acknowledgement, although that was rather ruined by one of them groping his aft as he passed. Starscream tolerated it – after all, he had agreed to tolerate a lot more – and the pair continued good-naturedly onward. Starscream could only assume that, having had an opportunity to relieve a great deal of pent-up pressure and tension, the crew's morale was much improved.

Well, that was what he was there for, after all.

Starscream returned his attention to the pad. An appointment had been booked for him, and it was one which filled him with no small amount of trepidation. It had been one of the reasons he had asked Knock Out to help him primp and polish more than he usually would, until his plating gleamed. His appearance couldn't be faulted now – his armour shone like a mirror, the red finial on his brow was bright, and his slender claws were filed to sharp, elegant points.

He put the pad into his subspace and forced himself to walk with his head high. He may be serving as a morale officer for the month, but what he did didn't change what he _was_. He was and would always be an elite seeker, his code and design refined from generations of Vosian nobility. He would not go to this assignation cowering like he was somehow less than the mech who had claimed him for the joor.

He stopped outside Dreadwing's door, paused for just a moment to collect himself, and then he pressed the bell.

The door opened, and the acting First Lieutenant of the Decepticon army called, “Enter.”

Starscream sneered a little, but he did as he was told. The mech despised him, but he had already endured the worst, Starscream thought, and it hadn't been that bad. The drones had broken him down to nothing but a toy, and he had survived that. He had even rather _liked_ it, bizarrely. It had felt good to let go.

And so he was able to stride into Dreadwing's quarters with his head and his wings held high, a sway to his hips, his heels clicking. He stopped in the centre of the room and put a hand on his hip, shifting his weight and showing off his curvy frame. He knew he looked good. He knew a bot would have to be mad to be able to resist him now.

Dreadwing stepped away from the window and approached him, stopping several paces away to regard him with a look of curious distaste, his hands linked behind his back. He didn't speak for a long time, long enough for Starscream to start to feel uncomfortable under his cold scrutiny. Then Dreadwing said, “You should know, I don't have high expectations of this, but it _is_ pleasant to see you in a position more suited to you.”

Starscream sneered and folded his arms. “Are we just going to stand here for a joor? What's wrong, can't you get it up?”

Dreadwing gave a snort of derisive laughter and turned away. He paced slowly around Starscream, circling him, while the seeker forced himself not to turn and follow him with his optics. Instead, Starscream remained staring straight ahead, one hip cocked, his arms still folded.

Dreadwing stopped directly behind Starscream, and said, “All right then. Let's see what it is that has half the crew slavering after you. Let's see why Lord Megatron always seems to give you chance after chance...”

“What?” Starscream did start to turn then, glaring at the bigger seeker over his shoulder.

Dreadwing made a motion with one claw. “Show me. Open up.” There wasn't even a hint of arousal in his vocals, only cold scepticism.

Starscream huffed for a moment, and then he slowly obeyed. He unclipped his panels, removed them and stowed them in his subspace. Another glance at Dreadwing showed him the mech's face was as impassive as ever. His arms were folded now, a slight sneer curving his mouth.

“Now bend over.” Starscream rolled his optics. He kept his feet daintily together and bent from the waist, setting his hands on his knees. His back was straight, and his wings were prettily angled. His valve and aft were bare, but with his legs together he wasn't showing Dreadwing what he wanted. “Spread your legs, _Commander_.” Starscream felt the first flush of embarrassment warm his cheeks. He stepped his feet apart, spreading himself enough to show Dreadwing the exposed folds of his valve.

He stayed motionless in this pose for a few moments, feeling Dreadwing's critical gaze on him, making him burn with a strange mixture of arousal and shame.

“Now get down on your knees,” Dreadwing finally said. Starscream sank fluidly down, and made a startled sound when the larger seeker pushed him, a hand in the centre of his back, until his face pressed against the floor. “Aft up. Knees apart.” Dreadwing moved away again, and Starscream stayed where he had been put – face down on his knees, aft in the air. “Now _spread_. I want you to show me. Show me what makes you _special_ , Starscream.”

Starscream grimaced, outrage and shame warring with desire in his mind, his frame now burning hot. He reached back and spread himself, using his fingertips to hold the outer folds of his valve open. The same motion forced the curved cheeks of his aft - the protoform bared with his armour removed - to part, giving Dreadwing a clear view of his rear exhaust as well.

Dreadwing laughed. “It doesn't look like anything special to me,” he said. “Any whore is equipped with the same.” Starscream shivered. Dreadwing still hadn't really touched him, still hadn't shown even an ounce of desire – only derision and contempt. With his face pressed to the floor, he couldn't see Dreadwing, so when he heard the first quiet grunt he was confused. He dared to twist a little to try to look up at the other mech.

Dreadwing stood behind Starscream with his spike out, and was using one hand to stroke himself almost roughly.

When Dreadwing saw Starscream watching, his optics flashed in anger. He kicked Starscream's side, and the seeker curled up, swearing. Dreadwing used his foot to roll Starscream onto his back, and before Starscream could squawk out a protest the big mech was kneeling astride his chest and that big golden spike was right in his face. The hard protoflesh slapped against Starscream's cheek and left a smear of lubricant in its wake.

“You don't deserve this,” Dreadwing hissed. “You don't deserve this chance, any of it. And you don't deserve _this_ ,” he slapped Starscream with his spike again, the other cheek, “either.”

Starscream went cross-eyed trying to focus on that spike. He could see its blue energon-lines throbbing, and a fresh pearl of pre-cum was forming at the tip. His mouth watered, and he squirmed.

Dreadwing noticed, and it seemed to placate him a little. “Mmm. But you want it, don't you?” He rubbed his spike against Starscream's cheek, and practically purred when Starscream turned his face and opened his mouth, mouthing and licking the hot metal as it slid back and forth. “You're desperate for it. Answer me.”

Starscream had no desire to make Dreadwing angry now it seemed he was getting somewhere. He hummed and nuzzled the mech's spike, and said, “Yes, I want it.”

“What do you want?” Dreadwing wrapped his hand around his spike and lifted it. He pressed his other hand against Starscream's brow, keeping his head pinned. Starscream focused on the head of Dreadwing's spike. The pearl of lubricant finally dropped, and Starscream opened his mouth and extended his glossa to catch the generous dribble of pre-cum that fell. Sensing what Dreadwing wanted to see, he strained a little, as if trying desperately to reach the mech's spike, desperate to wrap his lips around it.

Dreadwing pumped himself slowly, and more lubricant dripped from his spike onto Starscream's tongue, onto his cheeks, straight into his mouth. “What do you want, Starscream?”

“I want your spike,” Starscream said. He knew what was required of him.

“Mmm... Do you really?” Suddenly Dreadwing's weight was gone from Starscream's chest, and the lithe seeker was being flipped over, his hips lifted again. Starscream purred as Dreadwing spread his aft and bared his hole once more. Dreadwing's fingertips pressed inside Starscream's little afthole and spread, again and again, insistently easing and stretching Starscream's opening, making the little mech squirm and mewl. Dreadwing held Starscream's afthole open wide, smirking as he was able to see deep into the smaller seeker's rear. Then Starscream felt something else pressing inside.

Dreadwing slid the toy deep into Starscream's aft, slowly, until it was completely sheathed. Starscream whimpered, speared and stretched.

“Now, keep that in there while you convince me how much you want me to frag you.”

Dreadwing stood up and moved away. Momentarily disoriented, Starscream looked around, and found Dreadwing now seated in a large chair across the room, legs spread, his spike sticking up in between his thighs, gleaming and golden. Starscream's own spike was extended and hard, and his valve throbbed. His aft ached sweetly, all stuffed full.

Dreadwing's face had lost its cold, distant look – now he simply looked insufferably smug, so assured of his superiority. Starscream would love to see him lose that self-assured control.

He crawled across the floor, aft swaying, until he was between Dreadwing's thighs. He managed to keep the toy in his tight aft, just as he was told, although with his every movement it threatened to slide out.

Once he reached Dreadwing's chair, he knelt and gave Dreadwing's spike an experimental lick. Dreadwing groaned and leaned back, closing his optics and tilting his head back. It seemed it was up to Starscream to do the work, this time.

He licked and kissed Dreadwing's large cock, slathering it with his oral lubricant until it glistened. He stroked Dreadwing's thighs, and was rewarded by the big mech spreading them a little wider, giving Starscream more room to work. Starscream knelt up and took the tip of Dreadwing's spike into his mouth. The taste of his pre-cum was rich on Starscream's glossa. He sank down, taking inch after inch of throbbing, hard spike between his lips, deep into his throat, and Dreadwing gave a low moan of satisfaction and lust. Starscream realised that what he had taken for cool disinterest before had merely been a veneer. He would have smirked, if he hadn't had a mouth full of cock.

He moved his head up and down, moving his lips and tongue all over Dreadwing's spike as he worked him. Dreadwing twitched his hips a little now and then, but for the most part he seemed happy to let Starscream work. Starscream stroked the base of Dreadwing's spike, and wrapped his lips around the head and suckled on it. He bobbed his head up and down, sucking him deep, coaxing him to thrust into his throat. Dreadwing moaned and put one hand on the back of Starscream's head as the head of his prick nudged past Starscream's gag reflex and into his throat, and he started to move a little more. After that, it wasn't long before Starscream got his reward. He continued to suck Dreadwing hard, swallowing around him when he could, and he let Dreadwing rock his hips and slide his length in and out of his tight throat. Dreadwing pulled back before he came, so he could flood Starscream's mouth with his cum and let the little seeker really taste it. He watched Starscream indulgently as he poured thick spurts of transfluid into his mouth, and Starscream worked to gulp it all down without spilling. He almost managed it, too, save one small trickle that leaked from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

“Mm,” Dreadwing sighed. “Not as bad as I expected. You've had practice, clearly.”

Starscream took one last swallow, and then wiped his mouth. “I'm good at what I do.”

“So it seems. Because of that, I'll let you overload.” He made no move to leave his chair. “Come up here.”

Starscream climbed awkwardly into Dreadwing's lap, using his hand to keep the toy lodged in his aft. He straddled Dreadwing's waist. Dreadwing looked at him like he was a pet rather than competition. Starscream was too wound up and hot to care. He squirmed and wriggled, the base of the toy pressing against Dreadwing's chassis and letting Starscream fuck himself on it.

“That's good,” Dreadwing said. He used a few fingers to rub Starscream's slender spike. “Keep doing that.” After a few moments, Dreadwing reached around Starscream and used his other hand to hold the base of the toy, to make it easier for Starscream to grind and bounce. Soon Starscream began to keen, his overload creeping closer, teasing...

That was when he realised Dreadwing was hard again. Dreadwing grabbed Starscream around the waist and stood up, lifting the smaller mech above the ground. With one hand he pulled the toy from Starscream's aft and discarded it. Then he turned and set Starscream down on the chair, on all fours. He put the seeker into a position he liked, gripping his narrow hips and lifting them until his knees no longer touched the cushions, and then in one surge he pushed the whole of his slippery spike inside Starscream's aft.

Stretched by the toy, Starscream's hole allowed Dreadwing to slide in without resistance. Starscream curled his claws into the soft chair, holding on, and Dreadwing started to fuck him. He hilted himself fully on the first thrust, then his hips swung backward until only the very tip of his cock remained inside Starscream. Then he plunged back inside, and Starscream howled. Dreadwing fucked him like this, with deep, long thrusts and an easy, quick rhythm. He held Starscream's hips so he was at just the right level, in just the right place for Dreadwing's pleasure. Starscream was helpless to do anything but moan and cry out as Dreadwing's spike plumbed the deepest parts of his internals again and again.

Dreadwing took his time this time. His first overload had taken the edge off, and now he was free to enjoy Starscream's body at his leisure. He fucked him on the chair for a while, and then he lifted the slender mech, his spike still stuffed up his rear, and fucked him like that for a bit too – Starscream's back against Dreadwing's chest, his weight all in Dreadwing's hands, on Dreadwing's cock.

Eventually they moved over to the bed. Dreadwing arranged Starscream on his front, spread-eagled, and knelt astride his hips to continue driving into the little seeker's aft. Starscream's rear was well opened and supple now, and now and again Dreadwing liked to pull out entirely just to he could see how Starscream gaped. Starscream came a few times just from having his aft pounded, although after a while he was able to sneak a hand down between his legs to fondle and tug on his spike as well. Dreadwing kept him pinned with his hands on Starscream's waist, straddling his thighs, his thick cock sliding endlessly into Starscream's tight aft, over and over again, sometimes hard and fast, sometimes agonisingly slow and luxuriant.

Eventually, Dreadwing came again. He overloaded deep in Starscream's aft, and Starscream came again just at the feeling of all that hot transfluid flowing into him.

They rested for a little while, and then Dreadwing stood. He grabbed Starscream's wing, and pulled him, stumbling, into the wash-racks. He pushed Starscream to his knees and stroked his helm. The big mech was still breathless and flushed. Starscream, trembling and aching and well and truly fucked, knelt and gazed up at Dreadwing as the big seeker held his own spike, brought the tip to Starscream's cheek, and, cradling the back of Starscream's helm with his other hand, let loose a stream of waste fluid all over his face. Starscream was too dazed to care much, and he just held Dreadwing's gaze and opened his mouth. Dreadwing made sure Starscream's face was completely wet before feeding Starscream his spike and pouring the rest of his piss down his throat. Starscream drank it just as expertly as he had swallowed down his cum, and never broke optic-contact the entire time.

When Dreadwing's flow dwindled and then stopped, the big mech withdrew, stepped back, and sagged back against the opposite wall. He covered his face with his hand, and his shoulders slumped. Starscream recognised deep shame setting in, and cocked his head as he tried to think of how to handle it – to take advantage, perhaps. Dreadwing was still his enemy, after all.

In the end – although only a second or two had passed – he climbed weakly to his feet and turned on the shower.

He hobbled over to Dreadwing, and took the hand that wasn't covering the big seeker's face. Dreadwing finally looked at him then, and his face was spark-breakingly unguarded in his surprise. Starscream didn't say anything. He was exhausted, his body aching pleasantly in the wake of several overloads and eminently pleased. He hadn't the energy to provoke or belittle the mech who had just shown so much of himself, who had just lost control enough to make himself vulnerable. He held Dreadwing's hand and led him under the water.

For a while they simply stood there, Starscream's back to the wall and Dreadwing stooped over him as the hot water sluiced down over them and washed away the traces of their tryst. Then Starscream took a soft cloth and started to clean Dreadwing's armour. Dreadwing seemed to take it as a cue. He mirrored Starscream and spent time cleaning Starscream up. It was as if he almost felt guilty for messing him up so much, making him so dirty, that he wanted to try to restore the slim jet to his former state. Starscream let him. It was actually nice. Dreadwing washed his back and his wings, gently cleaned his chest, his aft, and between his legs. He let Starscream tilt his head up so the water could clean away the mess upon his face. Then he kissed him. Starscream let him press him against the wall, and the kiss was startlingly soft and gentle. Dreadwing cupped his face, and after kissing him deeply he pressed light kisses to Starscream's cheeks and brow as well. It was ridiculous, but Starscream thought it was a kind of apology.

Dreadwing might have hated him, but he had a kernel of honour somewhere in his spark, and it seemed his behaviour today had offended that part of himself. Starscream accepted the gentle treatment, and kissed him back.

Once they were clean, they lingered in the shower a little longer. At Starscream's encouragement, Dreadwing took him again. He lifted him up, and slid his spike into Starscream's valve. Starscream wrapped his arms around Dreadwing's neck and kissed him some more, and Dreadwing bounced the smaller seeker up and down on his spike almost playfully. When they came, it was sweet, and within seconds of each other. Dreadwing held Starscream against him, and hid his face against the crook of Starscream's neck.

After their shower, they dried off and closed up their panels without speaking, or meeting each other's optics.

Moved by some bizarre impulse, Starscream reached up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Dreadwing's cheek in farewell, and then he took his leave, leaving the big mech blushing in spite of himself.

Perhaps they would never be friends, but Starscream would almost say they had reached some kind of accord, an understanding, at the very least. As he made his way back to his own rooms for a break, there was a smile upon his face.


	4. Soundwave

After his appointment with Dreadwing, the rest of Starscream's morning was unchallenging. In a good mood following what he considered a small victory with Dreadwing, he headed to the mess, rather than his own rooms, to take his fuel. He got a couple of cubes of standard energon, and afterward a group of vehicons bent him over the table and had a go at his valve, finishing by giving him a good few dollops of transfluid in his mouth for dessert.

The rest of his afternoon was free in his schedule, so he decided to spend some time walking the halls of the Nemesis, following one of his usual patrol routes.

He hadn't gone far when he came across a pair of vehicons coming the other way. They were on a real patrol, but at the sight of the former Air Commander they paused.

“Uh, Commander, s-sir-” one began, unable to look at Starscream and twining his claws into knots before him. Starscream halted, his hands linked behind his back and his head high. “If it's no trouble, could we- uhh...” Starscream raised a brow.

“Oh for spark's sake,” the drone's partner grunted, and abruptly grabbed Starscream's arm. He turned him and slammed him face-first into the wall. Starscream grunted, but stayed where he was put when the mech's hands kneaded roughly down his back to his aft. He tilted his hips back, and the drone grabbed and spread his aft. “We don't have all cycle, we're meant to be on patrol.”

The first soldier seemed frozen, watching transfixed with an air of alarm as his friend opened Starscream's panel and shoved two fingers into Starscream's valve.

“He's wet down here already. Here, look at this mess.” He pulled his fingers out and showed the other the mess of transfluid coating them, courtesy of the soldiers at lunch. “No need to get him ready.” There was a click, and the next thing Starscream knew the mech had rammed his spike inside him. He held Starscream's hips and fucked him quickly – no doubt aware he was on a schedule. Starscream stepped his feet apart and angled his hips to give the mech the best access, and the drone thanked him by ploughing deeper. He had a decent sized cock, for a drone, and Starscream leant his face against the wall and enjoyed the pounding.

The mech spent himself inside Starscream and then pulled away quickly.

“Well? Are you going to go or not?”

“I... I can't-”

“What's wrong with you? It's what he's there for... this month, at least.”

Starscream turned and looked at the second drone with an arched brow. “Why so reluctant?” he asked.

“I-” the mech stammered, and for a moment he managed to meet Starscream's optics. Starscream waited for his reply, but the bot chickened out and mumbled, “I just _can't_ , I'm sorry I...” Then he turned tail and hurried away.

“Spark's sake,” the first drone muttered. “Sorry Commander.” Starscream shrugged, and then gave the mech a nod to indicate he was free to continue his patrol.

When he was gone, Starscream fastened up his panel again and simply stood for a few moments in the hallway, his arms crossed and a frown upon his face. What a vexing experience... That was the first time since taking up his new post he had come across a mech who _didn't_ want to jump his struts.

It was almost... insulting.

What was wrong with him? Starscream looked down at himself, trying to ascertain what had put the mech off. True, he was a little scratched up from earlier, but he was still in good shape. He twisted to try to see if there was something wrong in the back.

Just as he was trying to see if there was something on his aft, Megatron appeared.

It seemed the warlord was out for a walk as well. Starscream had somehow failed to hear his approach, so the first he knew he was there was when his voice boomed behind him, “I'm surprised you have time to dither in the hallways, Starscream. Don't you have a job to do?”

Starscream jumped, and faced Megatron quickly. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to salute or kneel. He settled for a sort of awkward hunch, hoping the warlord wasn't in a violent mood. “Lord Megatron! I didn't expect to... see you today-”

Megatron curled his lip. “Save the flattery for the crew, Starscream. I have no interest, in them _or_ you.” Starscream tried not to scowl. Make that _two_ mechs on the ship who didn't want him. “You will serve out your duty, and then we will see if you're still standing – or still sane. What is _this_?” Megatron had stepped close to crowd Starscream, and he tapped Starscream's codpiece roughly.

Starscream danced backward a few steps. “What do you mean?”

Megatron followed him, and to Starscream's dismay he grasped hold of the offending piece of armour and pulled. The clips came undone quickly under the strain, and Starscream yelped as his codpiece was removed. Megatron grabbed Starscream's wing and turned him around, and Starscream held himself still as the warlord's claws scraped and groped between his legs. In short order, the panel over his valve and over his aft were also removed.

“You don't need these,” Megatron said.

Starscream turned back around to find his panels nowhere to be seen. Megatron had put them into his own subspace. “Lord Megatron, please-”

“What for? You're here for one reason only, Starscream, and anything that gets in the way of that should be removed. Be thankful. I might remove your chestplates next so everybot could see your spark and have a go at that. You wouldn't like that, would you?” Starscream shook his head. His wings were lowered, and he unconsciously held his hands in front of his chest. “I didn't think so. Now get out of my sight. I'm sure there's somebot whose spike you're supposed to be sucking.”

Starscream bit down on a string of curses and turned tail. It wasn't worth biting back, not when he had just been fixed up.

He stormed down the Nemesis's hallways, boiling with impotent rage. He pulled the datapad Knock Out gave him out of his subspace and scrolled through his schedule. He wanted an assignation, a drone, anything, anything he could use to burn off this anger.

He was still stabbing at the datapad and muttering to himself, his head down, when he rounded a corner and walked straight into Soundwave.

The communications officer was stoic and immovable as ever, and remained unaffected even as Starscream yelped and fell to the ground. Looking up at him, Soundwave's odd shape seemed to loom eerily over Starscream, his blank face staring silently down at him. He stared at Soundwave's visor for a moment that seemed to stretch on, and then the datapad made a chirping noise. Still on the floor where he had fallen on his aft, Starscream checked it.

A large block of time in his afternoon schedule had been claimed, just that moment, by-

“Soundwave?”

Soundwave turned silently and paced away down the hallway.

Starscream had always had something of a gist for Soundwave's odd methods of comunication – not as good as Megatron did, but he was usually able to get the silent mech's point – and so he knew he was expected to follow.

Well, it wasn't quite what he had in mind, but at least it would give him something to do, something to focus on that wasn't dwelling on Megtron's scorn.

He followed Soundwave back to the communication officer's quarters.

As soon as he walked in the door, Soundwave materialised from the shadows and wrapped his feelers around Starscream's ankles. The seeker yelped as the strong tentacles abruptly hoisted Starscream off his feet and upwards, until he was hanging upside down several feet from the floor. He flailed a little, but he quickly realised he was completely at Soundwave's mercy. Soundwave lifted him closer, and Starscream was face-to-face with the mech's blank, enigmatic visor. A shiver ran through him. Then Soundwave lowered him a little, until his face only just cleared the floor, and used his strong tentacles to spread his legs further apart. Starscream blushed as he realised his exposed valve was now about on a level with the silent mech's face. He was held open and helpless, and all he could do was dangle and wait until Soundwave was done inspecting him. He knew he was still full of Vehicon cream, and the longer Soundwave stared the wetter he became on his own. He covered his face with his hands and trembled.

After a few kliks, Soundwave lifted Starscream until the seeker's face was level with the silent mech's codpiece, which opened smoothly. Starscream was presented with a sleek, dark spike decorated with dark blue biolights along its length. He obediently opened his mouth and took him in. Soundwave didn't move, and didn't allow Starscream a lot of movement either. Starscream made do by suckling rhythmically, and working Soundwave with his glossa, swallowing around the slim length. He rested his hands on Soundwave's narrow, angular hips for balance. He heard his energon rushing in his audios, and he was starting to feel dizzy from being held upside down for so long, but he doggedly continued.

Soundwave switched the grip of one of the tentacles with his own hand, and his grasp was surprisingly strong for such a slender mech. Starscream wiggled a bit, and then jumped when he felt something tickle his valve. Unable to look up to see, he could only twitch and mewl as delicate, soft touches brushed over the soft, spread outer lips of his valve. Soundwave used his free hand to spread Starscream a little and bare his anterior node, and then Starscream yowled as something fastened around that node and started to suck. It wasn't Soundwave's mouth, if he even had one; those soft tickling touches still continued, but the suction to his clit was insistent and mechanical. He whined. Soundwave had fastened the tip of his tentacle onto Starscream's node, latched on and now was torturing the sensitive little nub. He forced an overload out of the seeker, although Starscream's optics were watering at the unpleasant intensity of the sensation even as he shuddered through his climax.

Starscream experienced a moment of disorientation as his position was changed again. Soundwave's spike was taken from his mouth, and he was lifted and deftly positioned upon a low, hard berth. He was on his knees before he knew what was happening, and one tentacle gripped his wrists hard and pinned them to the bed. His face was smashed against the firm mattress, and the other tentacle, still fastened onto his sensornode, forced his hips to lift. He whimpered as Soundwave's spiderlike talons skittered over his thighs and upturned aft. Then he felt several of the slim digits slide into his wet valve and spread him. He knew he was a mess down there, knew how easily he stretched. Soundwave pulled the delicate walls of Starscream's valve as far apart as he could without causing harm, held him like that for a moment, and then the tentacle that had been affixed on the seeker's clit disengaged. Starscream only had a moment to experience relief at the cessation of that punishing suction before the same appendage started nuzzling at the open entrance to his valve. Fresh whimpers and trembling racked him; the tentacle's head was broad and hard, uncomfortable even with the grippers tucked safely away, and the smaller tendrils tickled his inner walls in an off-putting way, as if some kind of worm-like creatures were wriggling into him. He shook his head and tried to move away, but Soundwave switched his hands to Starscream's hips and gripped him hard with the same freakish strength he had exhibited earlier. He pushed his tentacle into Starscream's valve before the seeker could wiggle away. There was a little resistance as the jet's channel had to stretch a little wider to take the big, hard end of the feeler, and then he just kept pushing. Starscream's optics watered once more, and he babbled incoherently as Soundwave fed more and more of that sinuous length into the seeker's lithe body. The small tendrils that sprouted from the end of the tentacle continued to wriggle around inside Starscream's cunt, tickling and stroking sensors so deep he hadn't realised he had them, while the appendage's main length kept his valve spread wide and continued to feed itself deeper and deeper into Starscream's hole.

Soundwave started to fuck Starscream with his tentacle, while using the other to hold his wrists pinned. Starscream was sobbing before he came again, but when he did it was a huge and shuddering climax that lasted for several kliks. He drenched Soundwave's feeler with cum as his valve gushed and clenched. In the throes of his overload he arched and writhed, and he didn't even notice when his wrists were freed. He tilted his head back, his optics closed in ecstasy and his mouth open; the second tentacle caressed his lips, the small tendrils wrapping around his glossa and making him moan anew.

He expected Soundwave to withdraw and fuck him properly then, but he didn't. Instead he took Starscream again and again just like that, driving the seeker to the edge over and over by filling and pleasing his valve with one tentacle, and using the other to caress the rest of his frame with zinging little jolts of electricity.

Starscream was incoherent and unaware of anything save devastating pleasure when Soundwave decided his valve was stretched enough for the next step. Soundwave slipped his fingers into Starscream's valve alongside his tentacle and gently but firmly spread the opening as wide as he possibly could. He pressed his tentacle to one side, still wriggling and writhing inside the seeker's body, and then slowly, carefully, positioned second appendage alongside it. He only got a few of the smaller tendrils inside and Starscream was overloading, screaming.

Soundwave drew back the second tentacle and brought his hips up against Starscream's quivering aft. Carefully, he pushed his spike into Starscream's valve instead.

Starscream was sobbing, his face pressed into the sheets, but his valve was supple and pulsed thickly around the wide, wide stretch. Soundwave tilted his head back; he didn't move much, just enjoyed the heat and tightness of Starscream's body, and he came after only a few moments. He did it silently, as he did all things, but Starscream felt the wetness pool inside him, and for some reason that only made him hotter. That he could drive the icy, implacable Soundwave to desire and depredation bolstered his ego in a way that was deeply satisfying.

Soundwave pulled his spike out, but just as he was about to withdraw the tentacle as well Starscream's hand shot down, and he grasped the slippery appendage tightly.

“Don't!” he hissed. “Don't...” He rolled onto his back, whilst keeping the tentacle lodged deep in his valve. He spread his legs wide and bucked his hips. His face was flushed, and drool leaked from his parted lips. His optics were feverishly bright. “Don't stop...”

Soundwave regarded him coldly, tilting his head. His spike was already tucked back away in its sheath, but he obliged Starscream and pushed his tentacle a fraction deeper. Just that small movement had Starscream gasping and throwing his head back in ecstasy. Starscream started to rub his anterior node, and he took a perverse pleasure in giving the communications officer a show. He was wide open, willingly spread and stuffed with the other mech's data-cable, rocking his hips and desperately trying to fuck himself on it. He didn't care about his pride, all he wanted was pleasure.

Soundwave crawled onto the berth and hovered over Starscream, his weight on his hands and knees. His second data-cable returned to Starscream's mouth, and he pushed all of the small feelers between the seeker's lips and into his throat. Starscream sucked on them eagerly. Soundwave rewarded him by fucking him a little harder, making sure his feeler wriggled around inside Starscream's body and pressed against _all_ the sensors possible.

Starscream came another four times from this sweet torture, and after a while the climaxes started to run into each other until he was riding a delirious wave of pleasure, losing himself in the euphoria of being tormented thus. Soundwave didn't stop until Starscream, finally overwhelmed and overstimulated to the point of collapse, passed out. Then he slowly and extremely carefully slide his tentacles out of the seeker's body.

He got off the bed and stood back. The charge in his frame was back up to an unacceptable level, Starscream's passion having revved him up again after his single overload. He ran a diagnostic scan on the seeker, and then moved around the bed and used his data-cables to spread Starscream's legs to check he wasn't damaged. Starscream's valve gaped, but didn't appear torn or damaged beyond being overstretched and sore.

Soundwave hesitated for a few seconds longer, swiftly debating what action to take. He could not return to his duties in his current state – his charge was too high, he would be distracted and a distraction to others, his work would suffer and he would be unable to deliver the kind of excellence Lord Megatron expected from him. He also had Starscream still booked for a while longer. As morale officer, Starscream's job and his function was to alleviate the very tensions from which Soundwave now suffered. Soundwave could return to his duties as soon as he was once again in a fit state.

Decision made, he used his tentacles to turn the unconscious seeker over, and then pull him to the edge of the berth until his legs dangled off the side, his hips remaining on the bed. Soundwave let his spike out again, and was somewhat ashamed with himself to find it was hard and straining, practically twitching to get back inside the slim seeker. His thin claws flexed, and he took a moment to regain mastery of himself.

He slipped his spike into Starscream's sloppy, overstretched valve and ground his hips for a few minutes. Then, when his spike was sufficiently lubricated, he withdrew and moved upwards a little. Starscream's aft was a little loose from his exertions with Dreadwing earlier, but Soundwave still knew he would find greater satisfaction sinking his sleek spike in there right now than he would with Starscream's gaping valve. With Starscream unconscious, his afthole was relaxed and supple, and Soundwave was able to push in with little resistance. He used his feelers to hold the seeker down just in case he woke and started thrashing, but Starscream seemed to be in a state of peaceful stasis, blissfully unaware.

Soundwave fucked Starscream with slow, controlled thrusts, focusing intently on every sensation. Charge bubbled up inside him, his energon surged, and after only a short time he pushed deep and spilled his second load of transfluid into the seeker's body.

He rested for a klik, bent over Starscream with his head bowed, and realised he still had some residual charge left.

Starscream was still unconscious, so Soundwave once again used his data-cables to arrange the slender jet upon his berth – this time on his back with his wings fanned prettily beneath him. He caressed the seeker with his feelers, and then used his soft, questing tendrils to tease Starscream's spike out of its sheath and slowly to attention. Starscream may be dead to the world, but his body was still responsive.

Soundwave climbed up onto the berth and straddled Starscream's narrow hips. He positioned the tip of Starscream's spike against his valve, and then sank down. His vocaliser gave a brief burst of static, and his visor lit up for a moment. He ground on Starscream's spike slowly, and he savoured every sensation, drawing exquisite pleasure from every minute movement. Gradually he became more animated, and he moved his slim, angular hips in little circles while he clenched his valve rhythmically around Starscream's cock. His feelers caressed Starscream's frame restlessly, and then started to caress himself instead. He fastened one of them over his slim spike, and the suction made him throw his head back in a silent scream. He moved his hips up and down, used Starscream's spike like a toy while at the same time using one tentacle on his own spike while the other stroked and played with his aft. This time when he came it was far more satisfying, and his entire frame locked up for several kliks before he collapsed on his hands, trembling and shaken, still grinding his hips back and forth to prolong the pleasure.

When he eventually got off Starscream, he felt a wetness between his thighs and touched his fingertips to his valve in curiosity. They came away glistening with silvery transfluid. Starscream had come inside him, even while he still slept.

Soundwave cleaned himself up and sealed up his panels once more, then tucked away his cables. He still had time on the clock with Starscream, but his charge was dissipated for now, and Starscream looked like he could use the rest. He left his quarters to return to his duties, and left Starscream to sleep off the cycle's ordeals in peace.


	5. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a filler chapter just to keep this ticking over. Sorry guys.

When Starscream woke up, everything ached. It took him a moment to get his bearings and realise where he was, and he was surprised to realise he was still in Soundwave's quarters. He was even more surprised when he checked his chronometer. It seemed the Communications Officer had allowed Starscream to sleep off the majority of the night-shift in his rooms.

He sat up groggily, moving slowly as his aching body protested. He groaned and wrapped an arm around his midsection. His internals felt like they were cramping, and his valve was sore. He replayed the previous cycle's events and blushed. Had he really-? Ah well. It was done now, and in the past.

He slid himself to the edge of the bed, swung his legs off the side, and got to his feet. He had barely taken two hobbling steps when the door opened and a Vehicon stepped inside. Starscream tried to straighten up, but the effort made him wince. His panels were still missing, all his parts still on show, and he realised now that he was still in quite a mess.

The drone was carrying a silver tray with a square plate upon it, laden with a fragrant arrangement of solid fuels. Starscream's tank gurgled at the sight and scent of it, and he realised he was famished.

“Set it down there,” Starscream said and pointed to a nearby table. As the drone obeyed, Starscream approached and lowered himself into the single chair, ready to eat. The Vehicon didn't slide the plate over to him, however. Just before Starscream was about to snap at him, the drone unclipped his codpiece and pulled out his spike.

 _Oh no, please not right now_ , Starscream groaned to himself. Soundwave had done a number on him last night – mostly at Starscream's urging – and right now he felt almost as beat up as he did after a run-in with Megatron, although Soundwave had used pleasure to put him in such a state instead of pain. He didn't think Megatron would tolerate any excuses Starscream tried to make to get out of his “duties”, however.

But the mech made no move towards him. Instead he wrapped his hand around his not-insignificant spike, and gave Starscream a short nod. “Show me your valve, Commander,” he said, and his vocals were strained and breathy. His frame practically vibrated with held-back tension. Starscream slowly caught on. He turned his chair slightly so the mech could see him without the table in the way, and widened his legs. With his panels removed his valve was clearly on show – and after the previous day and night combined, it was a picture. His valve-lips were tender and swollen, the blue-tinted inner petals clearly visible; the hole between those folds was still overly-loose and open, and a mess of dried transfluid covered much of the valve and Starscream's thighs. Beneath his valve, his soft and puffy afthole was similarly crusted with cum. The vehicon started to stroke his spike, which was already sticking up to full, straining attention. The drone didn't speak again, and Starscream didn't break the silence. He did shift his position after a moment – he drew one leg up higher, bending his knee and angling his hips to give the mech a clearer view of his spread valve and aft. This caused the mech to miss his rhythm, and his strokes became more fevered and urgent. Starscream smirked and slowly, carelessly, reached down to play with the puffy folds of his pussy, rubbing and spreading them, occasionally rubbing his anterior node or fingering himself. This sent the drone over the edge in no time, and Starscream watched with perverse satisfaction as the nameless mech gave his spike a few more frantic pumps and then explosively overloaded. Great sprays of his cum splattered all over the food he had brought for Starscream, creating a liberal helping of sauce that was soon poured thickly over every item on the plate.

Spent, the mech stood motionless for a moment, venting hard and seemingly stunned by his actions. Then he fumblingly tucked himself back into his codpiece and moved as if about to leave – to flee.

Starscream stalled him by sitting properly in his seat, pulling the chair up to the table and reaching for the plate.

The drone was like a petrorabbit in headlights as he watched Starscream pick up a spoonful of transfluid-laced fuel and bring it to his lips.

Starscream made a great show of savouring the first mouthful. The fuel was fine, nutrient-rich and fresh-tasting. The transfluid was thick and warm and quickly coated his glossa, its taste overpowering the energon. He chewed slowly, moaned softly, and then eventually swallowed the mouthful and looked up to meet the drone's optics, licking his lips.

He thought the bot might be about to fall over. To his credit, he didn't, nor did he bolt. Starscream ate the whole plate of fuel, and the Vehicon watched until every last trace of fuel and transfluid both was cleaned up. Then, trembling , he took the plate and left.

Once more alone in Soundwave's bedchamber, Starscream snickered to himself. That had been fun, and besides, he liked the taste of cum. He preferred sucking it from the source, of course, but if feeding it to him on his energon was how this bot got his kicks then he could deal with that too.

He stretched, and then rose from the chair and made his halting way to Soundwave's washroom. There was no tub – no luxurious oilbath today – but there was a shower, which he swiftly made good use of. He groaned aloud as the first spray of hot water sluiced down over his aching frame, easing his joints and soothing his pains. He took his time in the shower, using Soundwave's unscented solvents to scrub himself clean, as well as paying particular attention to carefully cleansing his nether-parts.

He stayed under the water than he needed to, simply enjoying the sensation. Then, when he was done, he turned off the water and let the warm air in Soundwave's rooms dry him. He was starting to almost like the feel of the air against his exposed interface array; it felt fresh and exhilarating somehow. He found himself smiling to himself as he wandered around Soundwave's rooms, nosing into this and that. Soundwave didn't have much in the way of personal belongings, and his living space was so bare a bot could be forgiven for thinking no-one lived there at all. But the bed was rumpled and the room still smelt of sex.

Starscream fixed himself a cup of warm oil and sat down at the computer terminal in the corner. He would have expected a more impressive rig for Soundwave, but he supposed the strange bot did most of his surveillance work elsewhere. He tapped at the terminal, but it was security locked, and Starscream didn't have the inclination to try to hack it.

He was just finishing up his oil, when he heard a _ping_. He retrieved his datapad and brought up the timetable. Somebot had just requested an appointment – and it seemed it had been authorised. It annoyed Starscream that he didn't have any power over his days, but then reminded himself that it was only for a month. A few more weeks and it would be over, and he could get his normal life back. Whatever that meant...

He downed the remainder of his oil and stood. He was recovered enough, he supposed, and he didn't think he had much to fear from this morning's assignation. The appointment had been made by Lightwing, one of his seekers. He dusted himself off, checked his reflection in the observation window, and set out to do his duty for the day.


	6. Lightwing

He met Lightwing in the seeker quarters. Lightwing was the leader of the squadron after Starscream, but that till didn’t entitle him to his own room. As such, all the other seekers were there.

“We didn’t agree to this,” Starscream said when he entered and saw all the jets lounging around watching him. 

Lightwing, identical looking to all the others save a scar on his faceplate, gave him a shrug. “Privacy is hard to come by on the Nemesis. Now, I’m not really one for chatting, so let’s get started.” He backhanded Starscream quicker than Starscream could process, and the blow sent him staggering. Starscream was used to taking beatings from Megatron, however, so it would take more than a swat from a glorified eradicon to fell him. It had only been the element of surprise that had put him at a disadvantage. Starscream sneered and straightened, but the next moment the others grabbed him. He snarled and struggled as they held his arms and legs, keeping him spread-eagle and helpless. Lightwing flexed his knuckles. The next blow was a closed fist, again to the face, and then one to the midsection. Starscream gasped and yelled. 

“You didn’t put up this much of a fight the last time we took you,” Lightwing commented. “You were barely conscious at the time, of course, but I’ve seen the tape. The regular drones started fucking you as soon as Megatron gave the order and you didn’t so much as voice a protest.” He slapped Starscream again, his other cheek. “No, you just lay down and spread your legs.” He gripped the back of Starscream’s helm and forced him to look at him. “What’s wrong, Commander? Have you lost your taste for it?”

“I’m a morale officer, not your punching bag,” Starscream hissed. 

“Punching you raises my morale,” Lightwing replied. He hit Starscream a few more times in the face, until energon ran from his lip and nose and his head was ringing, his vision blurry. He thought he might pass out - almost hoped for it, it would make this encounter easier to bear - but he didn’t. “What’s the matter? You like it when Megatron does it to you.” Lightwing motioned with his head and the seekers threw Starscream to the floor. Lightwing kicked Starscream in the midsection. Then, while Starscream was on his back, he brought his heel down into Starscream’s belly full-force. Winded, Starscream could only groan and writhe. He was surrounded by identical mechs, all of them looking down at him, crowding around him. For a while he curled up and covered his head as blows rained down upon him, malicious kicks and stamps that dented his armour and bruised the protoform underneath. He heard them laughing. 

Then suddenly he was being lifted again, manhandled by what felt like the whole group of them at once. He found himself laid across one of their bunks, on his belly. One of the jets straddled Starscream’s shoulders and pinned him down so he couldn’t even lift his head. Two others lifted his hips so he was on his toes. 

He yelped when he felt the first hard smack across his aft. Not a hand, this felt heavier, sharper somehow, like a broad, flexible strap. Lightwing wielded it confidently, gradually building up the force of his blows over time as he beat Starscream’s aft and thighs. Starscream sobbed and squirmed, but the jets had him pinned too effectively for him to escape the strap and its seemingly endless blows. Starscream’s aft glowed with pain as Lightwing created an even distribution of dents to the thin plating, and made Starscream squeal each time he brought the strap down against the seeker’s tender rear port. When the seekers spread his legs and Lightwing brought the strap down on his valve Starscream’s vision flashed white. He cried out, squealing and whimpering without any dignity. All it did was make them laugh all the more. Their fingers grabbed and pinched his sore aft, defenceless since Megatron confiscated his panels. They spread it open, and Lightwing made sure there wasn’t an inch of Starscream’s intimate areas that he hadn’t set on fire with his devilish strap. 

At last Starscream was turned over, only to be pinned just as thoroughly on his back. The jet who had straddled his shoulders now opened his rear panel and sat on Starscream’s face, smothering Starscream’s primary inlet with his aft. They spread Starscream’s legs again, and to his horror they teased and tugged at his spike until it was pressurised, sticking up just enough for Lightwing to abuse. He slapped it with his open hand first, then lightly with the strap. Starscream sobbed, but nobot heard it as his face was mashed into the other seeker’s aft, not that they cared anyway. He was blind and mute, faceless; the malicious seekers took sadistic glee in humiliating their one-time commander. Starscream had never been aware of their resentment, but this cruelty could only have stemmed from a long time of stifled hatred and contempt. 

Lightwing smacked Starscream’s thighs, aft, valve, and spike until Starscream overheated from the pain and lack of air and passed out. Then the jets threw him back onto the floor and amused themselves for a while in arranging him in various degrading positions and filming or snapping holoscans for souvenirs. 

“Let’s get him into the washracks,” one of the seekers said. “He’s bleeding all over the floor.”

They dragged Starscream into the showers by his ankles. There, they spread his legs and crowded around him, crouching. They pulled his valve lips open, twisted them this way and that and pinched them. They slapped his now-softened spike and rubbed their spikes and afts over his face, sniggering to each other as they did so. 

“Wake him up,” said Lightwing. 

One of the other seekers slapped Starscream’s face until he jerked online with a start and stared around confusedly. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, Commander,” Lightwing said, and then to the others he added, “Hold him.”

Two of the jets grabbed Starscream’s legs and held them painfully wide apart, forcing Starscream’s hips up off the floor. The position presented Starscream’s upturned valve to Lightwing like an offering. Starscream tried to cover his face, but another of the jets held his wrists. He was too dazed to struggle further. 

Lightwing opened his own panel and let his spike pop out. It didn’t need any encouragement to reach full hardness, Starscream’s mistreatment had already done the trick. Lightwing’s spike was hard and straining, the pointed tip beaded with transfluid. He stroked it as he got himself into position, and then drove it into Starscream’s valve with no further preamble. Starscream could manage only a pathetic whimper. The tip of Lightwing’s spike scraped against Starscream’s valve lining as Lightwing sawed his length back and forth. Lightwing wasn’t interested in being gentle; in fact, he seemed to take greater pleasure in watching the play of misery and pain across Starscream’s face. He stabbed his spike into Starscream’s tender valve with unnecessary ferocity, gripping Starscream’s hips hard enough to prick the armour and hammering his hips in an increasingly frenzied tempo until he overloaded in a crescendo of violence, ramming himself into Starscream so hard the other jets struggled to hold the smaller seeker in place. Starscream groaned in grim relief as Lightwing poured transfluid into his valve, the inner membranes of which were rubbed raw by Lightwing’s pointed, scale-plated spike. Lightwing’s transfluid stung when it came in contact with Starscream’s irritated valve walls, but he was still counting his blessings that Lightwing had finished so quickly. 

He rethought that perspective a moment later when Lightwing withdrew, only to be replaced by one of his wing-brothers. Starscream rested his head against the cold tiles of the wash-room floor and closed his optics, fully intending to simply lie there and endure until each of the seekers had taken their wretched pleasure. However, Lightwing and his cronies were not content to let Starscream remain passive throughout the ordeal. While one of them railed away at his valve, the others tormented him in other ways. They tugged and twisted his spike, slapped his face, stuck their fingers in his mouth. The mechs fucking Starscream’s valve rotated each time one of them came inside him, but to Starscream they were all interchangeably intolerable. His valve burned, not only stretched and pounded but also scraped raw. Meanwhile the others rubbed their lengths against his cheeks, spat on his face, and scratched their claws down his wings. Eventually one of them stuck their spike in Starscream’s mouth, and from that point Starscream had two spikes pummelling him at all times, one in each end. Somebot stuck their fingers up Starscream’s aft and wiggled them around while his valve was still being used. When the fingers withdrew, the mech in Starscream’s valve replaced them with his spike, and for a while alternated between the two holes, giving a few thrusts in one before changing to the other, and so on. Starscream winced but was powerless to voice his discomfort with another thick spike thrusting roughly down his throat. Instead of complaints, all that he managed was a choked gurgle as drool spilled from his stretched lips. A particularly sharp thrust had him retching, and some of the energon he had consumed earlier in the day rose from his tank and forced its way out through the minute space between Starscream’s lips and the eradicon’s spike. He heard the jets jeering at him about it, but if they were disgusted it wasn’t enough to make them stop. Starscream’s tank reeled and he resigned himself to helplessness. It would be over when Lightwing and his wing-brothers decided it was over, and not a moment before. 

The seekers fucked Starscream for what felt like hours, rotating between them until each of them had emptied their transfluid reserves into or onto him, and their tanks were dry. Starscream was a sticky, gooey mess, dented and battered, sore and stiff. His fuel tank had emptied, leaving a crusty residue on his face and a congealing puddle on the tiles beside him. Vibrant blue energon streaked him here and there, mingling with and diluted by gobs of creamy silver transfluid. Most of the seekers lazed around, either in the wash-room or having retired to the main room to rest and chat. Starscream found their jovial camaraderie especially offensive since he was lying there, aching and awash with foul fluids. 

Lightwing stood over Starscream and took a few more pictures. He snorted in derision, but he couldn’t hide the fact that Starscream’s humiliated state excited him. He had already unloaded inside Starscream multiple times, but as he studied the commander’s prone body his spike twitched and started to pressurise yet again. Starscream would be amazed if he even had any cum left at this point. 

Lightwing squatted over Starscream’s head and rubbed his aft against his face. He spread his own aft with his hands and pressed his rear port down against Starscream’s mouth. 

“Come on, Commander,” he urged. “You’ve been doing this for Megatron for four million years, this should be no trouble for you. Get your glossa in there… there you go…”

Starscream was grateful there was nothing left in his fuel tank, although he still heaved a bit as Lightwing ground his afthole against his mouth. Lightwing wrapped his hand around Starscream’s throat, further blocking the airway he desperately needed in order to avoid overheating, and squeezed until Starscream complied and inserted his glossa into Lightwing’s aft. At Lightwing’s urging, he pushed his tongue in deeper, and then, Primus help him, licked around inside the other jet, feeling Lightwing’s internals flex and contract around his glossa. There was a hint of a rank taste that had Starscream retching and gagging all over again, but every time Starscream tried to escape Lightwing just squeezed his throat again. One time he gripped Starscream’s neck so hard Starscream thought he might begin to crush it, and so after that he cast aside his personal disgust and threw himself into the task instead. He moaned and ate at Lightwing’s aft, sucking on the rim and forcing his tongue as deep as it would go. 

While Lightwing was sitting on Starscream’s face, some of the other jets wandered back to observe the scene. Starscream squirmed, and Lightwing bounced slightly on his tongue. 

“That’s it, Commander. Really clean me out. There you go,” Lightwing cooed. “Better get used to this, you’ll be doing the rest of the guys soon.”

Lightwing rubbed his own spike as Starscream ate him out. Then he said, “Hey Starscream. Open your chest.” Starscream froze. When he didn’t obey, Lightwing reached down and grabbed Starscream’s spike in his fist. He squeezed and twisted, and Starscream yelled and babbled in pain and fear. “Open your chamber or I’ll rip this off,” Lightwing threatened. 

Reluctantly, Starscream slid his chest-plates apart, revealing the blue glow of his spark. His spark was encased in a thin transparent sphere, but it was still on full view, exposed to all of Lightwing’s eradicons. They crowded closer around him in order to get a closer look at the commander’s most intimate core. 

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Lightwing said. He released Starscream’s spike and settled back down on his face, and gave his wing a pinch to encourage Starscream to resume licking and kissing his afthole. Lightwing pumped his spike while rocking gently on Starscream’s face, and soon he came directly into Starscream’s spark chamber. His transfluid splattered against the clear covering over Starscream’s spark, dripping into his internal mechanisms, while Starscream desperately ate at Lightwing’s aft. 

There was a chorus of laughter and jeers. Lightwing, satisfied once more, stood up and let Starscream cycle air into his inlet again. Only a moment later, another one of the seeker’s rubbed himself to completion and sprayed yet more transfluid into Starscream’s open chamber. Starscream tried to cover his spark with his hands, but this only prompted Lightwing to grip his wrists and hold his hands out of the way. 

A third mech straddled Starscream’s waist and jerked himself to overload, adding his transfluid to the pool. Starscream’s spark was now covered with a wet film of cum, the light from the spark-core now muted. 

The next joor or so passed with the seekers alternating between forcing Starscream to eat out their afts - with varying levels of cleanliness, Starscream noted with disgust - and ejaculating into Starscream’s chest. By the time they tired of this new amusement, Starscream’s spark was completely obscured by a gloopy mess of transfluid. He felt soggy and degraded, his internals saturated with seeker cum. 

“Aw, don’t you like it?” one of them said when Starscream pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall and tried in vain to wipe some of the ooze away. He looked down at his open spark chamber in abject misery. The jet who had spoken snickered to his friends. “I think he wants a wash.”

“Let’s give him a shower,” one of his buddies said. Starscream looked up just in time to see that mech take his spike in his hand, aim it at Starscream, and let loose a stream of waste fluid straight at his face. Starscream turned away, spluttering, but the mech just laughed darkly and continued training the powerful jet of liquid on Starscream’s face. He stepped closer and put his thumb over the tip of his spike, causing the piss to spray out in all directions so Starscream couldn’t possibly avoid it.

The other jets followed the pissing mech’s lead and started to shower Starscream with their own waste. Starscream’s face scrunched up at the sharp, strong smell. There was nowhere he could go, no way he could hope to escape, so he sat and endured. The seekers hosed him down with their piss, their thick streams criss-crossing, fluid sluicing down his exhausted body. Piss poured into Starscream’s spark chamber, washing out the cum, and the foul mixture splashed out like a waterfall. He sobbed in shame, and his tears, mingled with the seekers’ piss and transfluid, were washed away. 

Eventually, at long last, it was finished. With a smattering of snickers and jibes, the seekers drifted away. Some availed themselves of the washracks and cleaned themselves up, others simply left. Starscream was only peripherally aware of them. He was conscious only of one thought, and that was is it over?

After an indeterminate amount of time, Starscream became aware of stillness and quiet. He cautiously unfurled himself from the ball he had curled into and looked around. The washracks were empty. He glanced around furtively, searching for any sign of Lightwing or his cronies. Just when he had made up his mind he was alone, and resolved to dare taking a real shower to scrub away the eradicons’ filth, the seeker lieutenant reappeared and jovially declared: “Well, Starscream, I know my morale is very much improved now. How about yours?”

“Does that mean we’re finished here?” Starscream said. He tried to sound like his usual self rather than the pitiful mess he felt like; his voice came out hoarse and croaky, and he didn’t think he succeeded. 

Lightwing looked at him speculatively. 

“Hmm, I guess we should be,” he said. “Unlike you, I have better things to do than spend all day fucking. Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up and get on to your next appointment?”

His next appointment. Primus, he had forgotten about that; the idea of moving on from this straight into yet another depraved crew-member’s fantasy was both exhausting and humiliating. 

“Or better yet,” Lightwing added, “why not just go as you are? No use trying to hide what you are, after all. Everybot knows what you do now.”

Starscream got to his feet. He was shaky and unsteady, his body aching in a thousand places, and he couldn’t help but wince. Lightwing looked him over slowly, taking in every dent, scratch, and smear. 

“On second thoughts…” He pulled a datapad from his subspace and tapped a few glyphs. Starscream watched him blankly, not comprehending what he was doing until Lightwing said, “Now you don’t have to go anywhere.” He turned the pad around and waved it, showing Starscream the screen. “I just booked up all of the rest of the cycle. Isn’t that great? Now we have the time to really get to know one another.”

Starscream was tired, but not so tired that he failed to catch the edge in Lightwing’s voice. Lightwing took a step forward, and Starscream found himself with his back pressed against the cold shower wall. 

“I thought you had better things to do,” he said. 

Lightwing advanced. “One of the boys can cover my shifts today. That’s the beauty of looking just like everybot else.”

It was hopeless. Starscream didn’t have the authority to change his schedule, only Soundwave had that clearance, and if Starscream tried to resist or escape any of his “duties” Megatron would cast him out the nearest airlock and he’d be back to hunting for scraps all alone on that accursed dust-ball, Earth. He sighed, shoulders slumping and wings dipping low. 

Lightwing crowded him, pressed his hands on the wall on either side of Starscream’s head, the datapad now disappeared back into subspace. He pressed his face to Starscream's cheek, nuzzling him with a disconcerting softness. His hands stroked down Starscream's arms before coming to rest possessively on his waist. It seemed the anger and violence of his initial passion was burnt out, at least for now. Dread coiled in Starscream's fuel-tank. 

Lightwing led him out of the washracks without giving him a chance to clean up. He pushed Starscream back down onto one of the berths just as he was, stained and dirty, his chamber still obscenely open, and pushed his legs apart. He sank into him without ceremony, and Starscream wrapped his legs around his waist. He moved in sync with Lightwing on pure instinct, finding joy in the simple relief of being tormented no longer.

Lightwing took him for a long time, alternating between quick thrusts and slow, lazy swirls of his hips. Starscream let himself fall into the undemanding pleasure, grateful for some respite from the aches and pains Lightwing and his friends had inflicted upon him earlier. 

Starscream was in a trance-like state by the time Lightwing pulled out. Starscream didn’t think the other seeker had overloaded, so it was with a vague confusion that he watched him move about the room. 

All became clear in a few kliks. Lightwing procured sets of magnetic restraints from a hidden locker, and with methodical and surprising gentleness he manoeuvred Starscream into a spreadeagled position. Starscream’s arms were raised above his head and fastened to posts at either end of the berth, leaving him lying width-ways across it with his arms outspread. Then Lightwing extended one of Starscream’s legs and inexorably bent it back, pushing until he could cuff Starscream’s ankle to his wrist. He repeated this action with Starscream’s other leg, the end result being Starscream bent in two and entirely open, stretched and contorted uncomfortably with his hips upraised and his nether array offered up like dessert. 

“There,” said Lightwing. He patted Starscream’s inner thigh gently. Lightwing didn’t have a mouth, but Starscream could hear the leer in his vocals nonetheless. “I hope you’re comfortable, Commander, because you’re going to stay like that for a long time. We have joors and joors to play, so you just relax. We’re going to get to know each other very, very well.”


End file.
